It feels like forever since I last updated, right? Well let me interrupt your forever and deliver another installment of this story which is close to my heart, just like it is for sarasharique9839 who I am dedicating this chapter to 😚

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Fasting on my birthday was hard.

But it was made easier when I was greeted with a surprise outside.

"Happy birthday!"

I blinked. Was this really happening?

"Is that mine?" I asked Baba, who leaned against the sleek blue vehicle with a wide grin.

"Indeed it is, habibti," Baba held out the keys to me as I approached, and I stared at them for a second before taking them in my hand, the cold metal pressing into my palm.

"It's beautiful," I stroked the shiny deep blue paint, then engulfed Baba in a hug. "Jazakallahu khair!"

Baba laughed. "You deserve it, Mariam. Have fun."

"Oh, I definitely will," I rubbed my hands together in anticipation. I finally had my very own car! A blue 2015 Volkswagen Polo, to be exact. I was never into cars or anything like that, but I could tell this was a great model. I wondered how much it costed...

"Now that you have your P-plate, you need to have a car too," Baba said, opening the door and pointing out all the features. I noticed the red P on the windshield, and grinned with glee. "We can't have Nasr driving you around anymore, can we?"

"Yeah," I heard Nasr say from behind me as he came out of the house, along with Zeinab and Immi.

"Isn't it small?" Immi always managed to find something wrong, but I smiled at her and replied, "It's perfect!"

"Can we go for a drive?" Zeinab pleaded.

"Not now," I said, remembering that I had a class in an hour. "Maybe later, In Sha Allah."

"You know, I helped pick it out," Nasr told me, slinging an arm around my shoulders and gazing at the car while Zeinab used the side mirror to check her face. "You like the colour blue, right?"

"Of course, who doesn't?" I answered lightly.

"When you buy me a car, make it purple," Zeinab told us. "Or maybe pink. I've always wanted a pink car."

"Like Barbie?" I teased.

"Exactly," Zeinab said.

For a sixteen year old, my sister could be such a six year old sometimes.

Driving in my new car was probably the highlight of my nineteenth birthday. I almost forgot I was fasting since I was too busy trying not to get into an accident.

I pulled into the university parking lot feeling pretty awesome, until I realised I had to pay for parking. Great.

"Why is it so full?" I moaned as I circled the parking lot searching for a parking space. I was used to being in the backseat keeping my eyes peeled for empty parking spaces but now that I was driving I felt the brunt of the frustration when there was nowhere to park.

And then I saw it. I swear a beam of sunlight shone down on the parking spot like a holy sign.

"Alhamdulillah," I murmured as I pulled in, leaving the right amount of space on each side. I really didn't want to deal with any angry drivers for accidentally scratching their precious vehicle, especially when it was my birthday and I was fasting.

"Is that your car?"

There was only one person with that voice, and I tried not to groan. But it was hard.

"Yes, it is my car," I replied with clipped words. I wondered where he had suddenly appeared from, until I realised why he was leaning against the black car next to mine. Especially when he pressed a button and the car locked. I had just parked next to Zaid Ali. Could this day get any better? Note the sarcasm.

"And I assume that is yours," I pointed, and Zaid smiled.

"Out of all the parking spots..." he trailed off, and I frowned.

"This was the only one left," I told him. "If there were other parking spots, I would have gladly taken them."

Now it was Zaid's turn to frown. "Why do you hate me so much? What did I ever do to you?"

I scoffed with laughter. "Is that a rhetorical question?"

Zaid arched an eyebrow. "Was that a rhetorical question?"

"Of course it was," I retorted. "Because, unless you've forgotten, you're annoying, and I've got a class to go to. So bye."

I was about to leave when I heard his voice again. "You forgot something."

I whirled round. "What?"

"Unless you want someone to steal your brand new car, you have to lock it before you go," Zaid stated, and I sighed, locking it and feeling like an idiot.

"Anything else you want to tell me?" I asked rhetorically, surprised when Zaid answered.

"Yes, actually." He smiled. "Happy Birthday."

I felt my lips part in surprise, mostly because I had never told him my birthday. At least, I thought I hadn't. Not that it mattered. I had a class to go to.

***

"I'm gonna be an auntie!" Yasmine squealed.

"Really? That's great!" I hugged her in all her excitement. Yasmine and her parents were having Iftar with us at our house, and of course, I was very excited about this. It was the perfect way to break my fast on my birthday - with my best friend.

"Oh, and one more thing..." Yasmine opened her purse and handed me a keychain that had a moon and star encrusted in silver and glittery diamonds and I gasped.

"Is that for me?"

Yasmine rolled her eyes. "No, it's for the dog. Of course it's for you. I know it's not much, but -"

"I love it!" I squeezed her into another hug while admiring the sparkly nature of the keychain. I immediately grabbed my car keys and looped the new addition through.

"If you react like this for a keychain, I wonder how you'll react for the other thing..." Yasmine muttered, and I cocked an eyebrow.

"What other thing?" I asked suspiciously.

Yasmine fixed a bright smile on her face and trilled, "Nothing! Now let's go see what's for dinner, Maghrib is soon!"

I decided to just let it go and sure enough, as soon as we stepped out of my bedroom, I could smell the spicy meaty aroma of samosas. Mmm...

After breaking our fast with dates and praying Maghrib in the living room, we filled our stomachs with my mother's cooking. Since it was my birthday and we had guests over, Immi had made the food extra delicious, so much so that I couldn't help having thirds. Yep, that's right. I was a bloated elephant by the end of the ordeal.

"I am never eating again," I moaned, patting my stomach.

"Are you sure about that?" Immi asked as she brought in the birthday cake.

"On second thoughts..."

After everyone sang happy birthday in a mixture of Arabic and English - don't even ask me how that's possible - I heard the doorbell ring.

"I wonder who that could be," Yasmine shot me a cheeky smile, and I abandoned my cake to go see who it was, with Yasmine in pursuit. She was acting super weird, and I didn't know why. Until I opened the door.

"Happy birthday!"

I was never one to get upset if someone didn't remember my birthday, so when I didn't receive any birthday texts from any of my high school friends, I didn't think anything of it. Maybe they were too busy, or they had forgotten. I wouldn't blame them. But deep down, I was a little sad. Especially when Theo didn't remember, since his birthday was a couple days ago and I had texted him to have a good day.

Now, seeing the three of them standing on my doorstep holding ridiculous shiny helium balloons, a giant teddy bear and a box of chocolates, my heart was content.

"Aw, you guys!" I gushed, thankful I was wearing a hijab as Theo handed me the balloons and Denise wrapped me in a hug while holding the chocolates that I eyed hungrily.

"I bet you thought we forgot, didn't you?" Theo chuckled.

"Nah," I shook my head, unable to tame the grin that took over my face. Finally, I looked at Damian, who was holding the giant teddy bear, and it was such a strange sight to see that I laughed.

"Aw, you shouldn't have," I said as he handed it over to me. It was so big I could barely see over its head as I held it in my arms.

"Now you'll have someone to cuddle at night," Damian winked, and my jaw dropped.

"Damian! I told you not to say that, gosh," Denise tutted, and Damian smiled mischievously.

"I couldn't help myself," he shrugged.

"Are you guys gonna come in or what?" Yasmine ushered them all in, taking the balloons from my hand. Damian had never stepped foot in my house, so he was gazing around with curiosity.

"Nice place," he commented.

"Thanks, I grew up here," I replied.

"I see you got a new doormat," Theo remarked.

"You remember her doormat but not her birthday?" Denise joked.

"That's Theo for ya," Damian laughed.

"Ah, it's the gang," Nasr appeared in the foyer with a slice of cake on his plate, taking us all in.

"You're having CAKE?!" Theo's eyes bugged out, and Nasr nodded casually.

"Want some?"

"Is that even a question? Of course I want some! Gimme!" Theo followed Nasr into the kitchen along with the rest of us.

"I apologize for my boyfriend's behaviour," Denise told me, and I chuckled.

"It makes me so happy that you guys are still together," Yasmine said, still holding onto the balloons. "You are seriously couple goals."

"We try," Denise shrugged.

My parents didn't seem the least bit surprised to see all my friends here. I guess they were in on it too. Even Zeinab knew, but for once that didn't bother me, because at least they were all here, and I had to thank Allah for granting me such beautiful friends.

"What will you name the bear?" Yasmine asked me as we ate our cake in the backyard under the moon and stars. The bear was with us, perpetually smiling with its beady eyes. It was a caramel brown bear, which was good because if it got dirty, it wouldn't show as much.

"Does it have to have a name?" I inquired.

"Of course it has to have a name, you can't just have a nameless bear, it's like, a crime," Theo said.

"Okay, then, I'll name it...Caramel," I decided.

"Really?" Denise didn't seem impressed.

"Well, that's the colour of the bear, and the cake we're eating, so..." I shrugged. I sucked at naming things.

"You should name it a mixture of all our names," Theo suggested. "Like...Theyasmardeniam."

"That's way too long," Damian criticised.

"It could be Theyas for short," Theo shrugged.

"I think I'll just stick with Caramel," I confirmed.

"Was that a pun, Mariam?" Damian raised an eyebrow at me, and I laughed.

"Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't," I replied mysteriously.

"By the way, we saw your new car in the driveway. It's so cute," Denise gushed. "Like, if I was to get a car, I'd get something like that."

"Would it fit all of us?" Theo asked.

"Probably not," I realised. "It'd be a tight squeeze."

"Can we try?" Yasmine requested.

"Hey, this isn't too bad," Damian remarked once we were all in the car, with me in the driver's seat.

"Maybe for you," Denise grumbled. "I'm literally squished."

"You can always sit in my lap," Theo patted his lap cheekily, and Denise scowled.

"No, thanks. I'm good."

"Shall we go somewhere, guys?" I asked, feeling adventurous, even though it was dark and my parents would kill me if I went out somewhere without telling them.

"Is this a use your imagination exercise? Because I'm pretty sure if you're on your red P, we can't carpool," Denise just had to point out the facts.

"We can, but there's always the risk of getting caught," Theo sighed.

"I live for the risks," Damian murmured.

"Can't we just drive around the block and then come back?" Yasmine suggested. "Our parents won't notice we're gone, will they?"

"One thing you should know about parents, guys," Theo stated. "They only notice what they want to notice. I swear, my parents don't know where I am half the time. They think I'm in my room studying or something, when we all know that's not the case."

"Yeah, my parents are pretty chill," Denise agreed. "But that's only because they trust me."

I noticed that Damian was awfully quiet, and then I realised he was probably thinking about his parents, or more specifically, his mother.

"How's your mum, Damian? Is she...alright?" I asked a little tentatively. I could feel the sudden curtain of silence that fell over the car. It was amazing how cars created more tension than if we were in a room.

"She's holding up," Damian replied casually. "Still talking and walking. But..."

"But?" Yasmine prompted.

"She's good, she's good, don't worry, guys. If anything happens...I'll let you know," it seemed like Damian was hiding something - his true feelings.

"Hey, you know we're here for you, man. Always," Theo put an arm around Damian, who nodded with a solemn expression.

"I know," he mumbled.

Saying goodbye to my friends was a sad event, even though I would most likely see them again in the next few weeks. But it was hard to stay in touch. We tried our best, though.

"Thanks, guys, for giving me one of the best birthdays ever," I said as we stood at the door.

"One of?" Damian cocked an eyebrow, and I shrugged.

"Maybe if we went out somewhere, it would've been the best, damn it," Theo feigned disappointment, but I shook my head.

"No, that's not it. I don't need no fancy outing to feel appreciated. Just you being here was more than enough," I beamed.

"Well, I'm glad we made your day," Denise hugged me once more.

"It's so not fair how she gets to hug you, but we don't," Theo pouted, and Denise slugged him in the shoulder.

"Have some respect, Theo!" she chided.

"Here, hug Caramel," I tossed the bear to Theo, who caught it with his face since it was so big.

"Mmm, fluffy," Theo handed the bear to Damian, who looked at it for a few unblinking seconds.

"Go on, hug it," Theo commanded.

Damian raised his eyebrows at me before pressing Caramel to his chest, patting the back of its furry head and saying, "I guess this is the next best thing."

I wondered what he meant by that as I waved to them at the door. Damian had come in his mum's car while Theo and Denise came in Alex's car that Theo drove, but they had to park it down the street since there was no space in our driveway.

Yasmine's parents were in the lounge along with my parents, with cups of coffee in their hands as they spoke in Arabic. I paused for a moment by the door as I took in what they were saying.

"We have to make it soon, they see each other a lot these days," Samia, Yasmine's mother, said.

"Aren't they a little young? I don't know if Nasr is ready to take care of my daughter," Hameed said cynically.

"Nasr is a capable young man, and they do not have to live together yet," Immi contributed with a frown. "They can live here, with us."

"Good idea, Zahra, I think that could work," Samia agreed.

They were talking about Nasr and Yasmine. Yet again. It seemed I was always the one who overheard these conversations, and now I had to go find Yasmine and Nasr and tell them about this.

"What are you guys up to?" I questioned when I found them in the kitchen with Zeinab, sipping tall glasses of diet coke.

"Just chatting," Zeinab replied.

"About life," Yasmine added.

"How vague," I drawled. I went to get the coke bottle but noticed there was only a drop left. "Wow, thanks for leaving me some."

"Sorry," Nasr didn't sound sorry. "So...lover boy gave you a teddy bear. Interesting."

I was still carrying Caramel, getting used to its size, and I set it down on a chair and glared at Nasr. "What are you on about?"

"Nothing, nothing," Nasr replied airily. Then he let out a belch.

"Charming," I said dryly.

"Is that the best you can do?" Yasmine tutted.

Oh, no, Yaz, please don't -

"That's what I call a real burp. Watch and learn, Nasr," Yasmine said smugly.

Nasr's jaw was agape slightly from Yasmine's 'release,' and I just shook my head at my best friend's behaviour. "I think I just..." Nasr didn't finish his sentence, but he sounded awed, and a little shocked.

"No, guys, this is a burp," Zeinab downed the rest of her coke and let out a guttural noise that echoed slightly in the kitchen atmosphere and went on for two and a half seconds.

"My sister - the champion," Nasr held up Zeinab's arm in the air, and Yasmine clapped.

"Okay, I admit my defeat," she smiled.

"You guys are disgusting," I remarked.

"Thank you," Nasr and Yasmine replied simultaneously.

"Wow, you guys really are made for each other," I joked.

I loved making them feel uncomfortable, and boy were they uncomfortable.

"By the way, our parents are planning the wedding as we speak," I added cheekily.

"What?" Nasr spluttered, while Yasmine just blinked at me in disbelief.

"That's right. Just go and ask them," I said, knowing fully well they probably wouldn't.

Nasr and Yasmine could barely look at each other. Mission complete.

***

Damian's POV

Fasting wasn't so hard when I didn't have an appetite anyway. Not when all I could think about was Mum, and whether she'd still be alive tomorrow.

This was one of those things where you couldn't do anything. No amount of chemo was going to help. I mean, it could help a little bit, but in the long run...whatever Allah planned would still happen, no matter how much you tried. It was this fact that made me feel helpless. But in a good way.

"Our concept of God is the same, right?" Mum asked me one day while we had lunch. Dad was at work as usual and it was just us on the weekends, hanging out.

"More or less," I answered vaguely, watching her take her medication with a gulp of water.

"I mean, I believe God has a plan for everything, and He knows what we want before we want it," Mum said. "And you believe that too?"

"Yeah, we do. But -"

"Yes, I know, you don't believe in Divinity," Mum sighed. "Still, though, other than that, we are very similar."

I puckered my brow, wondering where Mum was going with this. I was used to her bringing up religion a lot, but she seemed to be on another point today. "Except in the way we worship God, of course."

"It's just, seeing you fast and pray and all that," Mum began. "It's made me think a lot about how Christianity teaches us to worship, and I feel like you are more committed to God than us. You pray five times a day, whereas we only pray when we need Him."

"That's usually for selfish needs, am I right?"

Mum nodded. "Yeah, like, when I became sick, I used God as not only a guidance but an anchor to remind me of our purpose in life. But how can I turn back to God only when I face misfortune? Shouldn't I have been grateful for my health before instead of begging Him for my recovery now?"

I stroked my chin as I listened to Mum pouring her thoughts out. It interested me to know what she thought about all day, and now that I knew...I could only hope she would convert just like me, so we could be in this together.

"This is what Islam is all about, Mum. Remembering God in everything we do, and even if we forget, we still have five opportunities in the day to remember," I said. "Not one, not two, but five."

"That's what I admire about your religion, Damian. How dedicated you guys are. It's just amazing," Mum's eyes glistened as she spoke, and my lips curved into a smile.

"Thinking of converting, Mum?" I asked.

Mum chuckled. "You'd love that, wouldn't you?"

"I really would."

Perhaps it was the sincerity in my voice, but Mum's eyes softened and she abandoned her sandwich to beckon me over for a hug.

"Look, Damian, I am running out of time in this world. And it's time I start thinking about not only your future but mine. You speak about Islam in such a way that I am tempted - very tempted - to join, but I fear it's too late."

I pulled back to look her in the eyes, my heart breaking when I noticed the tears that resided there. "No, Mum, it's never too late. And God will have mercy on you because you are ill. In fact, you may even be granted heaven just for converting," I told her firmly, gripping her shoulders.

"R-really?" Mum sniffled. "But I may not be able to pray, or fast, or do anything -"

"That's okay, Mum, Allah doesn't expect you to fast if you are in bad health, and as for praying...there are other ways." I was growing excited at the prospect of my mum becoming a Muslim. It was a dream come true for me since I converted, to be able to share it with someone in my family. Especially Mum.

"Then what's the point of me converting if I can't be a proper Muslim?" Mum asked with a frown.

"Mum, being a Muslim isn't just about what you do," I told her ardently. "It's about what you feel on the inside. And Allah knows what's in your heart. You belong to Him, after all. And you will return to Him."

Mum's tears slipped down her cheeks as I said this, and I gently wiped them away with the napkin I had given her. "What do I have to do, then? What can I do, to be Muslim?"

I smiled. "All you have to do is repeat after me."

***

Mariam's POV

"That's incredible!" I exclaimed. I couldn't believe it when I heard the news. Damian's Mum had converted to Islam! Who would've thought? Definitely not me.

"Yeah, and she wants to invite you over for dinner to celebrate and, you know, talk about Islam," Damian said.

"I'll have to ask my parents," I replied, feeling overwhelmed. This meant that I had not only converted Damian, but he had convinced his mum to convert. It was like conversion dominoes!

"You can bring them along," Damian suggested.

I frowned, suddenly realising how this would all look. Having dinner with both our parents present? Usually when that happened... "Sure, okay."

When I told Mum, she seemed to misunderstand. "I will have to cook a very big delicious meal!" she sounded excited at guests.

"No, Mum, we're going to - Wait a minute, that's not a bad idea. We could invite them over," I got my phone out and texted Damian the idea. He immediately agreed.

Your food tastes so much better, anyway.

True.

The nerves started to kick in the morning of the dinner, when I realised I had nothing to wear. Or so I thought.

"How about this nice long skirt and top? You wore it to Aisha's wedding, remember?" Zeinab suggested, but I shook my head.

"It's too sparkly."

Zeinab groaned. "Why are you so picky? How hard is it to just choose something to wear? I'm trying my best here!"

"I know, Zeinab, but what I wear is very important," I sighed.

Zeinab narrowed her eyes at me. "And why's that? Is there more to this dinner than you've already told me? Is it a..." Zeinab's eyes widened. "Is it an engagement dinner? Omg, are you getting engaged to Damian?!"

"No, that's not -"

Zeinab began flitting about the room, fanning her face and repeating, "OMGOMGOMG," before sifting through my wardrobe and tossing random clothes onto my bed.

"Okay, I think if you really want to impress the mum, this one would look good on you, and this hijab would definitely bring out your eyes -"

"Zeinab, calm down, it is not an engagement dinner, ya Allah," I snatched the hijab she was holding up, inspecting the material and design. "Hey, you know what? This looks pretty good. Thanks, Zay."

"Anytime, Mims," Zeinab winked. "But...are you serious?"

"About what?" I asked as I rifled through my drawer for a top that would go with the skirt she had just gave me.

"About it not being an engagement dinner," Zeinab replied as if to say, 'duh, what else?' "I mean, I thought you guys were..."

"Were what?" I snapped, fixing her with blazing eyes.

Zeinab held up her hands meekly. "Okay, okay, I won't say anything. It's just, from a sister's point of view, it seems like you have -"

"I have nothing, Zeinab, now stop bothering me," I pointed to the door, and Zeinab rolled her eyes.

"Okay, Whitney Houston," she muttered, leaving.

"Why does that sound so familiar?" I wondered aloud, then I remembered. Damian had said that on graduation night. Among other things...

"Salamu Alaykum, Mariam. Am I saying it right?" Karen added sheepishly, and I nodded, smiling.

"You said it perfectly," I assured her as we hugged swiftly.

I had never met Damian's father before, but I could see the resemblance between them. Same eyes, jaw, and air of confidence. There was no doubt that Darren Brewer was Damian's dad.

"So you're the girl Damian's always been talking about," Darren offered me a smile that was also like Damian's, dimples and all. "Nice to finally meet you."

"Likewise," I said. Damian used to have issues with his dad, but I could tell they were all resolved now and they got along just fine, exchanging jokes and smiles. It was amazing how their family now worked, with two Muslims and a Non-Muslim, and Immi commented on this as we ate her lovely food she prepared.

"Will you be joining us any time soon?" she asked light-heartedly, though the topic was pretty serious.

"If they can convince me enough, maybe," Darren laughed, glancing at his wife, who wore the scarf I had gifted her last year as a hijab. Other than the bags under her eyes and her pale skin, you could barely tell she was sick. Only when she coughed, you could hear the rattle in her chest.

"This all started thanks to Mariam, and I thank God every day for that," Damian shot me a smile, his aquamarine eyes twinkling. He was wearing a black shirt and dark grey jeans, but it didn't matter what he wore. He still pulled it off somehow.

I noticed my parents exchanging looks and I couldn't read what they meant, but I had a feeling. For the rest of the dinner, Nasr grilled Damian with questions about university and whatnot while I just listened to Karen talk about her newfound peace with her life.

"You are such a strong woman, Karen. I will pray for you," Immi said with a sympathetic smile.

"Thank you, Zahra," Karen beamed back.

I couldn't help noticing Darren looking a little uncomfortable with all the talk of praying and religion, though he feigned interest most of the time. I wondered what went on in his head, and whether he really was okay with his son and wife being Muslim. I knew if I were in his situation, I'd be feeling a little isolated. But then again, that must've been how Damian felt before, and I was happy for him now that he had his Mum by his side.

"Eid is coming soon, in a week or so, maybe you'd like to come celebrate it with us?" Baba suggested.

"Oh, absolutely, I've always wanted to know what Eid was all about. I know from what Damian told me last year that it is a lot of fun," Karen's eyes sparkled.

"Yes, it sure is, and we'd love for you to be there with us, In Sha Allah," I said.

"Yes, In Sha Allah. I use that phrase a lot these days," Karen divulged with a wistful smile. "The future is in His hands, am I right?"

"You are right," Immi agreed.

It was clear to see that my parents enjoyed Karen's company, as she was such a lively presence. Subhanallah, some people were just always positive, despite the struggles they had to face in their life, and I admired Karen for that. It was a shame that the best people had the worst fortune, but I only prayed that there was a spot in Jannah for this woman, because she definitely deserved it.

"I wish I could stay, but I am feeling rather tired," Karen yawned, leaning on her husband's arm for support.

"It's been a pleasure meeting you, Karen, and you too, Darren," Baba shook hands with him, bidding them both a smile.

As the parents indulged in last minute conversation at the door, I stood with Damian, Nasr and Zeinab.

"Your mum is awesome," Nasr told Damian, who laughed.

"Yeah, she sure is," Damian gazed at his mum with affection in his eyes, making me smile.

Zeinab nudged me. "Stop staring at him with that creepy smile on your face, it's weird," she hissed.

"You're weird," I retorted weakly. Zeinab rolled her eyes.

"Thanks for having us over," Damian said. "The food was great."

"Of course it was, because my mum cooked it," I replied cockily, but only as a joke.

"You know, you've got a pretty cool mum," Damian remarked. "And a cool dad, too."

Nasr scoffed. "They're only cool in front of other people, but just you wait. When you leave, they'll take off their masks and go all ogre on us."

Zeinab giggled. "Yep, just like Shrek and Fiona. Minus the green skin."

Damian raised his eyebrows in amusement. "Oh, really? I'd love to see that."

"Trust me, you wouldn't," I said in a deathly tone.

"Well, it's been fun. I'll see you," Damian waved slightly, following his parents out the door.

"Yeah, Ma'a salama," I waved back with a faint smile, and he returned it, keeping his eyes on me until he was out of sight in the dark night.

"So," Nasr began with a mischievous grin. "When's the wedding?"

I didn't realise I was capable of punching Nasr hard enough for him to cry, but I guess there was a first time for everything.